P  S 

3517 

N87 

C25 

1921 

MAIN 


•,o 


GIFT  OF 


, 

X-  ^ 


GaylordBros. 


California  and 
IPestern  Uerses 

By  LAURENCE  EDWARD  INNES 


L.  E.  INNES 


Books 

m 


2014  South  Figueroa  Street 


Los  Angeles,  California 


Several  California, 
Western  and  other 
verses  from  the 

writings  of 
L.  E.  INNES 


Copyrighted  1921 
by  L.  E.  Innes 


California  and  Western  Verses  Page  three 


IT'S  CALIFORNIA  CHRISTMAS  TIME 

It's  Christmas  time!     And  the  bluebird  sings, 
And  the  morning  dew  to  the  green  grass  clings, 
And  over  the  hills  and  far  away 
Is  the  strangest  kind  of  a  Christmas  day. 
Oh  Santa  Claus  in  the  lightest  clothes 
Is  skipping  from  pink  clouds  as  he  goes, 
And  saying,  "My  goodness,  it's  hot  today, 
How  in  the  world  did  they  get  this  way." 
He  waves  a  fan  made  of  great  palm  leaves, 
And  his  airship  darts  from  eaves  to  eaves 
Of  the  green  and  the  purple  bungalows 
That  stand  in  such  dainty  graceful  rows. 
Then  he  winks  his  eye,  and  the  day  is  here, 
And  all  about  him  is  Christmas  cheer, 
But  never  a  snow  flake  flutters  by, 
And  never  a  chill  wind  breathes  a  sigh, 
And  the  sun  goes  up,  and  the  sun  goes  down  — 
And  it's  Christmas  Day  in  a  palm  tree  town. 


CALIFORNIA 

I  f  a  pot  of  gold  and  a  crimson  rose 
And  wealth  and  color  that  no  one  knows 
Conspired  to  produce  a  place  for  men 
Where  trouble  would  never  come  again, 
They  might  succeed,  but  I  often  think 
That  of  all  the  cups  from  which  men  drink, 
There  is  no  nectar  like  these  far  skies, 
No  sound  of  surf  like  the  surf  that  lies 


Page  four  California  and  Western  Verses 


In  the  warm  embrace  of  this  Southern  land; 

And  surely  no  smile  or  more  friendly  hand 

Could  meet  a  stranger  than  one  meets  here. 

If  you  come  for  a  day,  if  you  stay  a  year 

Oh!     Here  is  a  place  where  the  flowers  and  sun 

Belong,  or  seemingly  so,  to  everyone — 

Oh,  here  is  a  place  where  a  man  may  say 

"I'm  glad  I  have  lived  and  have  passed  this  way." 


SUNSET 

A  sunset  with  the  scent  of  flowers  to  kiss  the  day, 

To  walk  into  the  heart  of  night  in  such  array 

Of  gilded  thoughts,  bedecked  with  such  gay  dreams, 

Can  this  be  I?     Indeed  it  almost  seems 

As  though  a  mantle  clung  to  me 

And  I  were  some  brave  cavalier 

Of  gallant  mien  and  fancy  free, 

Strangely  waiting  for  a  trysting  here. 

O  lavender  and  violet  day,  good  bye ! 

Brown  hills  that  mother  us,  I  sigh 

To  see  the  rapture  sweep  from  thee, 

And  all  the  glowing  days  bright  gayety, 

But  night  has  come,  the  stars  will  shine 

And  in  the  darkness  strange  sweet  wine 

Will  come  to  me.     So  daylight  goes 

Yet  for  a  moment  trails  the  sea  with  scarlet  clothes. 


California  and  Western  Verses  Page  five 


TONGUES  OF  THE  SEA 

At  night  I  listen  and  far  away  I  can  hear  the  call  of  the 

sea, 
The  rhythmic  chant  of  the  voiceless  waves,  solemn  and 

sad,  and  free. 
Sweeping  on  o'er  a  million  graves  in  the  hollow  home 

where  they  live. 
Of  all  things  mighty  the  untamed  waves  have  all  that 

a  God  can  give, 
They  roam  the  world  where  the  spirit  lists,  they  beat 

on  a  strange,  far  coast, 

They  wander  back  on  an  endless  track,  a  vast  un 
numbered  host. 
They  lap  the  face  of  an  earth  subdued  to  the  mighty 

power  they  hold; 
No  hand  upraised  may  stay  their  course  when  they 

gather  a  million  fold. 
Ships  and  men,  and  the  power  they  wield,  the  patience, 

the  cunning,  the  skill, 
What  are  these  in  the  crashing  seas  where  the  grim 

waves  work  their  will? 
At  night  I  listen  and  far  away  I  can  hear  the  tongues 

of  the  sea, 
Speaking  ever,  yet  speaking  never,  ceaselessly  call  to 

me>  fati 

At  night  I  listen  and  far  away  I  can  hear  the  tongues 

of  the  sea, 
They  tell  their  tale  in  the  roaring  gale  as  they  sweep 

their  message  to  me. 
At  night  I  listen  and  far  away  the  waves  with  their 

burden  of  tears 


Page  six  California  and  Western  Verses 

Keep  forever  the  ledger  page  of  the   swiftly   moving 

years ! 
Kings  and  commoners,  bound  and  free,  age  after  age 

goes  by 
And  only  the  waves  as  they  chant  their  song  listen  and 

never  die. 
I  lie  and  listen  and  hear  them  call  and  they  flood  the 

fitful  gloom 

With  thoughts  that  tell  how  man  must  dwell  in  a  nar 
row  restricted  tomb 
While  they  reach  back  to  the  nether  years  and  chant 

of  the  days  to  come 
With  all  the  gladness  that  makes  their  song  and  the 

sorrows  that  make  them  dumb; 
They  tell  of  the  freedom  of  fields  afar,  and  they  laugh 

at  the  woes  of  men 
But  the  moaning  cry  when  they  break  and  sigh  cries 

out  to  my  heart  again 
And  I  feel  they  know  that  Time  and  Tide  as  they  hold 

the  ash  of  the  years 
Have  held  compassion  for  hopes  of  men,  their  efforts, 

their  faults,  their  tears. 
At  night  I  listen  and  far  away  I  can  hear  the  sound  of 

the  sea 
Marking  time  on  it's  lonely  rocks  as  it  patiently  waits 

for  me. 
The  waves  well  know  that  the  hour  will  come  when 

my  tide  will  turn  and  free 
We'll  go  together  through  changing  weather  to  the 

heart  of  the  throbbing  sea; 
Back  to  where  in  the  lonely  track  of  a  distant  gleaming 

sea 


California  and  Western  Verses  Page  seven 

I  look  down  deep  in  the  heart  of  waves,  and  the  waves 

look  back  to  me; 
Where  both  shall  wonder  as  stars  go  out  and  hot  suns 

glow  and  fade 
Why  earth  and  sea  and  eternity  and  man  and  his 

dreams  were  made. 
At  night  I  listen  and  far  away  I  can  hear  the  call  of 

the  sea, 
The  rhythmic  chant  of  the  wordless  waves,  solemn  and 

sad  and  free. 
They  call  to  me  from  the  boundless  deep,  from  the  pit 

of  the  burned  out  years, 
Wise  with  the  wisdom  of  ages  past,  and  sad  with  their 

unshed  tears. 


NEW  LANDS  AND  NEW  MEN 

So  has   it   always   been:     Egypt,   Athens,   Carthage, 

Rome, 
The  index  finger  of  the  race  forever  pointing  to  a  newer 

home, 

The  strong  blood  surging  to  a  fresh,  clean  place. 
New  skies,  new  seas,  and  then  again  new  dreams, 
New  peoples  springing  from  a  good  new  soil  ; 
New  life  that  radiates  in  vivid  streams 
Revitalizing  ancient  things.     So  men  shall  toil 
And  growing  old  shall  rest;  but  when  the  thing  is  done, 
Their  sons  shall  cast  it  all  aside 
And  seeing  visions  in  the  setting  sun, 
Shall  journey  forth  with  naked  purse,  but  strong  with 

pride. 


Page  eight  California  and  Western  Verses 


A  MOMENT  AT  THE  GRAND  CANYON 

I  knew  that  others  followed  for  the  train  had  been  well 

filled 

With  tourists  really  anxious  to  be  overawed  and  thrilled, 
But  somehow  when  I  wandered  to  that  jagged  awful  rim 
I  forgot  the  ones  about  me;  far  away,  and  faint,  and 

dim, 
Were  the  cities  I  had  seen,  were  the  people  I   had 

known 

And  suddenly  deserted  I  stood  there  quite  alone. 
Here  ended  earthly  questing: — from  the  broken  jagged 

sod 
Marched  the  great  vast  naked  mountains  through  the 

soundless  halls  of  God. 
In  the  arched  blue  of  the  heavens  where  the  sun  rode 

on  his  way, 
There  was  still  the  solemn  splendor  of  the  planetary 

day. 
But  here  was  God  above  me,  and  a  new  God  down 

below, 
And  the  same  God  all  about  me,  and  I  seemed  to 

strangely  know 

That  never  in  the  future,  in  the  crowded  city  street 
Would  the  vision  be  quite  absent,  that  when  I  went 

to  meet 

The  hard  exacting  labor  of  the  cold  prosaic  day 
I  would  see  God's  marching  mountains  in  unapparelled 

array — 
See  and  know  and  feel  forever  where  my  weary  feet 

might  plod, 

That  I  'd  looked  for  one  brief  moment  down  the  sound 
less  halls  of  God. 


California  and  Western  Verses  Page  nine 


A  SUN  BURNED  CANYON  TRAIL 

It's  a  dusty  road  when  the  slimmer  sun 

Beats  down  red  hot,  and  one  by  one 

The  blades  of  grass  that  banked  its  side 

Have  turned  to  brown  and  sighed  and  died; 

But  nevertheless  its  a  wondrous  trail 

Where  birds  sing  free,  where  winds  call  "Hail!" 

And  canyon  spirits  are  whispering  there 

In  the  dusty,  hazy  scented  air. 

And  no  one  knows  where  the  canyon  goes 

And  its  brown  and  dusty,  and  yet  no  rose 

Can  tilt  the  nose  of  a  passerby 

Like  a  canyon  trail  'neath  a  deep  blue  sky — 

Oh  here  is  a  scent  yet  the  rose  has  fled, 

Oh  here  breathes  life  though  the  flowers  are  dead! 


THE  PRETENDERS 

The  King  is  dead !     But  the  court  still  lives 
And  it  shines  its  armor  and  curls  its  hair 
And  still  pretends  that  the  king  is  there. 
The  worms  have  eaten,  the  rust  has  come, 
The  trumpets  silent,  and  stilled  the  drum, 
But  some  strange  hope  forever  gives 
The  puppets  that  vainly  surround  a  throne ; 
A  power  to  strut  when  they  stand  alone — 
When  the  king  is  dead,  and  their  hope  is  gone, 
And  the  world  forgetting  has  traveled  on. 


Page  ten  California  and  Western  Verses 


POINSETTIA 

A  poinsettia,  glowing  and  red, 

Proudly  lifted  its  gorgeous  head; 

It  looked  about  it  and  saw  the  rose, 

And  up  the  hill  where  the  poppy  grows 

It  noted  the  blue  of  the  bluest  sky, 

And  the  greenest  of  grasses  filled  its  eye, 

And  the  house  that  stood  but  a  space  away 

Was  orange  and  purple  with  dabs  of  gray ; 

And  the  gay  flower  smiled  with  a  well  pleased  smile 

"To  be  beautiful  here  is  a  thing  worth  while, 

But  to  rank  them  all  when  they're  all  so  fine, 

Is  a  gift  indeed,  and  that  gift  is  mine — 

My  crimson  lips  on  the  face  of  day 

Give  love  and  laughter  to  light  your  way." 

And  the  rich  red  flower  grew  still  more  red 

As  it  blushed  and  nodded  its  gorgeous  head. 


WANDERER,  REST  THEE  HERE! 

If  this  is  the  end  of  the  long,  long  road, 
And  the  curtain  that  drapes  thy  dreams 
Be  a  mesh  of  flowers  o'er  the  dark  abode, 
And  the  kindly  sunlight  gleams 
With  a  gay  abandon  a  space  above, 
Then  Wanderer  rest  thee  here, 
Where  long  kind  days  will  give  a  smile 
And  the  soft  rains  give  a  tear. 


California  and  Western  Verses  Page  eleven 


ARIZONA  NIGHT 

As  white  as  chalk  the  paths  beneath  a  strange   and 

dream  shot  moon 
Lead  out  across  an  endless  world,  and  vanish  all  too 

soon. 
Grotesque  as  satyrs  yucca  palms  stand  guard  as  though 

they  feared 
The  shadows  which  their  bent  arms  cast,  the  night 

winds  strange  and  weird 
Bring  odors  that  the  day  distilled,  the  stars  superbly 

bright 

Seem  studded  but  an  inch  apart  in  fields  of  hematite. 
A  desert  land?     Ah  yes,  perhaps,  yet  dreams  go  hand 

in  hand 
With  one  who  goes  across  the  night  in  this  strange 

silent  land. 


YOUTH 

I  dance  o'er  the  grave  of  a  million  years, 

No  time  nor  tide  I  know, 
And  only  the  flowers  that  bloom  today 

Are  the  sweetest  flowers  that  grow. 
The  hollow  sound  in  the  empty  halls 

Where  ghosts  go  flitting  by, 
Oh!     You  may  listen  and  looking  back, 

Remember  and  give  a  sigh, 
But  not  for  me  are  the  faded  flowers, 

Nor  the  kingdoms  passed  away, 
For  this  I  say:     Though  the  whole  world  die, 

Still  Youth  will  have  it's  day. 


Page  twelve  California  and  Western  Verses 


"JAMES!    ADMIT  NO  CUSTARD  PIES!" 

A  movie  king  and  a  movie  queen  and  the  ghost  of  a 

custard  pie 
Met  somewhere  out  in  Hollywood,  and  they  gave  it  a 

glassy  eye. 
"You  remember  the  time"  said  the  custard  pie,  "when 

I  was  nice  and  new' ' 
"And  you  were  poor  and  out  of  work,  and  dollars  were 

hard  and  few?" 
"And  who  are  you?"  said  the  movie  king,  "Tut!  Tut! 

Be  on  your  way!" 
And  "Upon  my  word!"  said  the  movie  queen,  "You 

have  your  nerve,  I'll  say!" 
The  movie  king  in  his  limousine  spoke  to  the  movie 

queen 
And  both  with  a  most  disdainful  air  sped  from  the 

vulgar  scene. 
And  the  custard  pie  was  all  broke  up,  and  he  shed  some 

custard  tears, 
"Oh,  ain't  it  sad"  said  the  custard  pie,  "They  forget 

their  leaner  years" 
"They  forget  the  time  when  they  looked  on  me  as  a 

tried  and  a  trusty  friend" 

"But  times  have  changed,  and  I  am  old"  and  he  tot 
tered  to  his  end. 
And  the  movie  king  when  his  car  reached  home  said 

with  snapping  eyes 
To  his  servant  James  "My  man,  take  heed,   I'm  at 

home  to  no  custard  pies!" 


California  and  Western  Verses  Page  thirteen 


THE  DESERT 

O  shadows  that  lure  !     O  heat  that  cries 
From  the  deathly  stillness  of  blinding  skies. 
O  sand  that  eddies  !     O  sand  that  blows 
From  God  knows  where,  to  where  —  God  knows. 
O  desert  that  beckons,  brave  men  who  went, 
Aye,  bravely  enough,  but  broke  and  spent 
Who  kissed  the  cactus  and  cursed  their  fate, 
As  you  clutched  their  throats  with  red  hot  hate, 
Is  the  thing  that  creeps  o'er  your  shimmering  breast 
A  sigh  from  the  bones  that  will  not  rest? 
Is  the  lure  that  breathes  in  your  dreadful  breath 
The  calling  of  voices  that  long  knew  death? 


THE  "ANCIENT  MARINER"  ALIGHTS  IN  LOS 

ANGELES 
"I  have  braved  many  perils"  the  Mariner  said,  "and 

many  strange  sights  have  I  seen'  ' 
"But  crossing  Broadway  where  it  intersects  Fifth  has 

got  them  all  beaten,  I  ween." 
Then  he  hitched  up  his  trousers  and  tightened  his  belt 

and  joined  that  venturesome  crew 
That  surges  and  urges  and  eddies  about,  but  manages 

still  to  get  through. 
He  wildly  inspected  a  motor  car  then  that  missed  his 

left  leg  by  an  inch 
And  he  muttered  a  word  that  a  deacon  won't  use  un 

less  in  a  very  tight  pinch, 
But  a  lady  was  prodding  his  ship  on  the  left  and  a 

street  car  approached  on  the  right, 


Page  fourteen  "»' ' '  •"• '  ••  Gal?forriia*-2(nd  Western  Verses 


So  he  hastily  strode  the  full  breadth  of  the  road,  it 

was  safer  to  hurry  than  fight. 
"I  have  braved  many  perils"  the  Mariner  said,  "And 

I've  fought  with  the  fierce  Albatross, 
"But  this  is  a  moment,  the  proudest  of  all,  for  believe 
me  I  did  get  across." 


THE  BUILDER 

Here  is  a  haven  a  traveler  said 

And  he  picked  a  hard  and  a  stony  bed  — 

A  little  room  in  a  crowded  street 

Where  the  ends  of  the  earth  would  often  meet. 

Yet  he  couldn't  twist  and  he  couldn't  turn 

Where  the  fitful  light  of  his  life  would  burn; 

But  he  found  the  thing  of  his  Heart's  Desire  — 

A  book,  a  nook,  and  a  quiet  fire  — 

And  that  was  a  haven  indeed  for  him  ; 

But  the  other  I  tell  of  is  somewhat  grim: 

Here  is  a  haven  a  traveler  said 

And  he  followed  the  paths  where  the  deserts  led. 

There  was  nothing  there  till  the  traveler  came, 

But  he  gave  it  toil  and  he  gave  it  name 

And  the  thing  that  was  barren  came  to  flower 

In  exchange  for  the  work  of  each  burning  hour. 

The  blossoms  came  where  the  spade  had  struck 

And  out  of  the  refuse  lands  and  muck, 

In  fact  from  out  of  the  world's  back  yard 

He  made  a  garden  —  but  the  day  was  hard 

And  the  traveler  long  since  gone  to  rest, 

But  lands  where  he  builded,  we  call  them  —  WEST 


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MAY   241937 


Gaylord  Bros. 

Makers 

Syracuse,  N.  Y. 
PAT,  JAN.  21 ,1908 


YB   ft 960 


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